Kurt is a high-flying fashion adviser with an expensive New York flat and a supermodel boyfriend. Blaine is a rough, blunt struggling musician barely living off his wages, but getting LOTS of one thing. How will the two meet and what will become of them?

If you've come here from You Do Or You Dalton - hi :D Thanks for sticking by me. If you're new to my stories - hi. Hope you stick around.

As the name and the rating suggests, this story contains sexual themes. And sex. And quite a lot of bad language. It's a very bad story :D The characterisation of Blaine and Kurt (Blaine in particular) is a lot more blunt, so don't expect much fluff. Do, however, expect a great story :D Haha

Enjoy!

Liz xxx

Chapter 1 - Please Please Please, Don't Destroy My House.

"How could you do this to me?" The coffee table crashed to the floor, taking with it the contents of my portfolio and several mugs of coffee. The porcelain smashed, spreading the dark contents out over the wooden floor.

"That boy from the photoshoot! The one you were making eyes at the whole day!" My eyes widened.

"What? No! Of course not!"

"LIAR!" Suddenly a plate came whizzing in my direction. I ducked and felt it skim the top of my head, hitting the wall behind me with an almighty crash so the pieces bounced against my back.

"Alejandro – I didn't sleep with him! We barely spoke for more than ten minutes!"

"Is that all it takes now? For Kurt Hummel to make his move?" Do you time them every time, try and set a new record?"

"Wait – so now I've slept with even more guys?"

"YOU'RE NOT DENYING IT!" Another plate flew towards me and this time I rolled out of the way, sticking my hand into the rapidly growing pool of coffee.

"Alejandro calm down! You're going to destroy the whole house!" That was the wrong thing to say.

"I WILL NOT, CALM DOWN, UNTIL YOU TELL ME THE TRUTH!"

"I AM!" Suddenly I snapped, jumping to my feet and snatching the plate that once again my boyfriend had been about to throw at me out of his hand.

"This!" I said, waving the plate in the air madly. "It's ridiculous!"

"What's ridiculous is you still lying to me when you know how much it hurts! Why do you torture me like this Kurt?"

"You, are crazy." I continued, placing the plate down on the worktop and shaking my head. "Stark, raving, crazy…"

"At least I'm not cheating on the one man I'm SUPPOSED to be in love with!"

Right. That was it. I'd hand enough.

"If I'm cheating on you – if I'm lying – then why are you still here?" For a second there was silence. Alejandro looked like he'd just run a marathon, sweat dripping down his face and his normally perfect olive skin tinged with red.

"Fine." Stalking over to the counter he suddenly began opening drawers, emptying the contents into a carrier bag.

"Alejandro this is INSANE!" Rushing over to my boyfriend's side I tried to grab his arm, but he shoved me away roughly. "You can't just randomly take things!"

"FINE. I'll come back for these later." Pushing past me he stormed to the bedroom, where he immediately flung open the closet and began tearing out items of clothes onto the bed.

"Oh my God…" I said to myself, digging my hands into my hair. This was not happening. I hadn't even DONE anything.

"Alejandro."

"I try! I try so hard to make this work! I buy you chocolates and sing you songs and tell you I love you and how do you repay me? By making me feel like shit!"

"Oh, because now I don't feel like shit at all." Our conversation had been going on in different rooms – Alejandro emerged with a hastily packed suitcase and began to march towards the door,

"Ale." I called out, using his pet name to get his attention. I watched him spin round and stare at me – the fierce passion in his eyes that (in a different format) had been what had attracted me to him in the first place.

"I can't do this anymore. All the tantrums, the plate smashing, the tears. If you walk out of this door right now that's it. We're over." For a second Alejandro paused – contemplating the thought in his head just as I had. Then, swiftly, he turned round and walked through the door

Everything was quiet. I looked at the bombsite that was our kitchen – now my kitchen – putting my head in my hands and wiping away the tears until slowly I sank to the floor.

"Sambuca shot. Make it a double."

"Woah, steady on there dude – there's still plenty of time until closing." Switching my gaze briefly to the man sitting next to me I sighed, before picking up the shot, downing it in one and signalling for another. The bar was fairly empty, the sound of some eighties classic playing away softly from the jukebox. It smelt of stale beer and cigarettes.

"Drinking away your feelings?" The man spoke again and this time I turned towards him, the new tiny glass in my hand.

"Something like that."

"Don't worry – I know the feeling." Taking a sip of his own drink – which looked to be whiskey – he smiled, showing off some neatly formed teeth. It was about the only perfect part of him. There was a ragged look to his features – curly black hair that came down past his ears and stubble littering his jaw and upper lip. He was dressed in casual clothing but didn't seem like a bum – just like he wanted to be. There was something about the way he spoke that suggested he'd had an education.

"What happened?" I'd spent so long analysing the man's appearance that I hadn't even realised he'd continued.

"My boyfriend left me." I waited for the eyebrow raise to hit me, the look of disgust on his face as he shifted away from me. All I saw was an understanding look spread across his face,

"Ooh. Ugly?"

"Very ugly. He practically destroyed our whole kitchen."

"How long?"

"Three years."

"Ouch." Grimacing, curly haired man leant forward onto the bar, taking another sip of his drink. I downed my next shot but this time ordered a gin and tonic.

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, things hadn't been right for a while, it was bound to happen," I continued, for some reason not caring that I was unloading to a complete stranger.

"How did you guys meet?"

"Well, I'm a fashion adviser and I met him at a photoshoot."

"Wait – he's a model?" I blushed.

"Yeah." Reaching into my pocket I pulled out my wallet and flicked to the photo I had in there – something I would probably have to replace now. When I showed it to the curly haired man he almost choked.

"Shit man." He said, looking at me with his eyebrows raised.

"I know. We hit it off and for a while it was amazing – he was very affectionate and had this adorable little accent. But then the jealousy started." I closed my eyes, suddenly thinking back to all the nights Alejandro had come home in tears because he'd seen an email message from a new co-worker or heard me talking to someone on the phone. Now I brought it up it really had happened too much – too much to be healthy.

"He was so protective. Every guy out there, gay or straight, was a threat to him. It was exhausting." Curly haired guy nodded and I sighed, bringing my glass to my lips. "So now it's over. I know I should feel upset, because I did love him, but I don't. I just feel…"

"Relieved?" I nodded, smiling bitterly. "I know exactly how you feel. My last boyfriend kept wanting me to serenade him all the time. Needless to say that didn't last long." For a second I stopped, contemplating his words. He was gay? Well that was unexpected. Not that anything could really be predicted. "Haven't been in a serious relationship since." Curly haired guy continued and I interrupted my inner musings to cock my head to the side.

"No relationships?"

"Yup. Who needs 'em." My eyes widened.

"But what about…" I wondered how to phrase it. "You know…"

"Oh!" He laughed. "Don't worry – I don't have any trouble in that department. You'd be surprised how much actually. Granted most of them are depressed rebounds like yourself – but I'm not too picky." Woah. I didn't know whether to laugh or be insulted. Curly haired guy leant forward onto the bar again, but this time in my direction.

"It's a lot of fun you know." I stuttered.

"What? Sleeping around?"

"No. being free – not having any ties. You should try it sometime." He grinned and I suddenly felt my face flush crimson. There was something about this guy – the way his eyes sparkled and his words were just on the edge of flirting. He was fascinating.

"Um, I'm ok at the moment thanks." I mumbled in reply, desperately trying to contain myself and he laughed, holding up his finger for another drink.

"What is it you do then?" I asked, wanting to move the conversation on but still keep it going. "Apart from sleep with every lonely gay singleton in New York." Curly haired guy laughed again.

"Well – you are looking at your friendly neighbourhood musician – playing at seedy bars and clubs since 2005." He gestured to himself with a smile and I laughed.

"Are you good?"

"Very. Just wish the rest of the world would see that. Or my agent."

"Don't worry – things will turn around. They always do." Suddenly curly haired man let out a groan, slamming his hand on the bar so I jumped and nearly split my drink.

"Oh God. An optimist." I shot him a sarky look.

"What's wrong with seeing the best in things?"

"That's coming from the guy who's sitting in a bar drowning his sorrows in drink because his boyfriend destroyed his kitchen." A laugh escaped from my lips.

"Touché."

"Life sucks, and then you die. That's how it goes. But somehow we still live through it." As curly haired guy took a large swig of his drink with his eyes fixed on me I sighed, before doing the same.

I don't know how time went so fast in that bar – one minute we'd been fairly sober and the next it was closing time and I was raging.

"Hey guys, I have to close up now." The barman said, tapping me on the hand. I woke up from the half snooze I'd been having and lolled my head to the side.

"What? Is it that time already?" I laughed at the slur in my voice and tried to hold my arm up to look at my watch – suddenly it felt incredibly heavy and I had to use my other arm to hoist it up. When I managed to focus my vision on the face my eyes widened.

"Holy shit! It is! It's closing time!" Suddenly I heard laughing and looked back to see curly haired guy returning from the bathroom. He was pretty drunk too, but not nearly as hammered as me.

"It's closing!" I repeated to him again when he reached us, waving my hand around. "We must have been talking for hours."

"We were. Three and a half hours to be precise. Although the conversation kind of disintegrated after a while." I laughed, a high-pitched girly laugh and the hiccupped. The barman was looking at me worriedly.

"I'll get him a taxi," I heard curly haired man say to him, before putting his arms under my armpits and hoisting me off the chair.

"Stop it! That tickles!" I said in between giggles. We staggered out of the bar and the cold New York air hit me like a wave. A huge shiver ran though me and curly haired man laughed.

"Cold buddy?"

"It's fucking freezing." I tried jumping up and down to keep myself warm but my legs wouldn't hold - curly haired man jerked his arm out to stop me from falling and I laughed.

"Maybe I should drink so much next time." I slurred, looking up at his face, which was glimmering different colours from the streetlights.

"It's ok. You have a low tolerance level. I've seen it before." A taxi pulled up and I was dumped inside of it.

"22nd Street pleeeeease." I said, elongating my words so curly haired man rolled his eyes. I went to shut the door but he stopped me.

"Listen," he said, "I know you're probably not gonna remember this, but I had fun talking to you. We should do it again." Something was produced in front of my face and I flailed around for a couple of seconds before taking it to read.

"Blaine Anderson." I said, looking up triumphantly at him. "Is that your name?"

"No it's my star sign." He smiled, before moving to close the door. "See you later Kurt Hummel."

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